One Degree of Separation

I don’t know where my head is right now.

As you may or may not know, my husband’s dart buddy actually won the million dollars from the Tournament of Ten Millionaire show I posted about yesterday.  Of course, we are happy for him.  He is a good person. I don’t actually know him, but my husband does although he hasn’t seen him in a while.  One degree of separation, you might say.  It is so wonderful when good things happen to good people.  Honestly, everyone on that show seemed like good, hard working, helpful and honest people that you can’t help but feel happy about any of them winning a million dollars. The fact that it was someone I remotely know, well of course, that makes it more exciting and real.  It makes you want to cheer when good things happen to good people.

But today I open an email from my best friend to learn that her very very dear friend Matthew has died.  Suddenly.  Without warning.  Without any sense in the world whatsoever.

Again, I know him.  I haven’t seen him in over two decades, but I know him. I know he is a good person, a wonderful person.  And he is gone now. He would have been an amazing father to his yet unborn child.  He would have continued to be an amazing person in this crazy fucked up world.  And I have to scream because bad things happen to such good people.

I don’t get it. 

My friend wrote in her email that it is like “a world gone mad.”  And it feels exactly like that.  Especially when I read about a mother selling her child to a rapist/killer and other horror stories day after day only to then find out such a special and good hearted person has been removed from this world.  Why?

I don’t get it.

I am rambling.  I can’t help it.  When the people you love hurt, you hurt.  When people you know who work hard are awarded, you applaud.  When a stranger sells her innocent 5 year old dauther to a killer rapist, you… you… what do you do? 

Fuck. What do you do?

When I first read about that poor little girl, I just cried.  And then I hoped.  I hoped that there really are angels out there.  I hoped there were angels that swept down and wrapped that sweet girl up in their wings and took away any pain, hurt, sadness she felt forever.  I didn’t know her at all and yet I was so upset over this child’s needless death.  And now, Matthew.

How do you account for such an inbalance, such randomness in life?

Sam, I am happy for you.  I hope you can make the world a better place with the money you won.

Matthew.

All I can say is the world is one degree off its axis right now for losing you. 

And I hope even more so that there really are angels out there.  Because if there are, then I know you are one of them now, still helping and protecting and doing good.

Who Wants To Know A Millionaire? I Do!

I don’t know if you have been watching the special Tournament of Ten edition of the Who Wants To Be A Millionaire these past few weeks.  If you have, then you know that as of right now, the leader is Sam Murray of Philadelphia.

Sam use to bartend at the pub where my friends and I played Quizzo every week and he and my husband use to be on the same dart team.  He is obviously very smart, but also very nice.

Only one more person stands between him and a million bucks.  Tomorrow is the last show when we will find out. For the past week, we’ve been rushing home and watching the videos on YouTube to see if he was still in the top seat.  One more day to go (in fact, I think I might just find a way to watch it at work tomorrow).

Fingers crossed.

Go Singing Sam!!  We’re rooting for you!

A Penny For Your Thoughts, A Quarter For Your Soul

Before I put my soul on the line and open the new philosophy section (which is coming, I promise as I can’t back down now), I have a challenge for you.

I wrote the below post back in September but never hit that PUBLISH button.  It was a personal blog entry I just needed to write. Several weeks later I went to that motivational seminar and felt a new inspiration to put “out there” the stories and thoughts I have been working on for several years. 

The new section is something I need to do.  I need to put this part of me out there in order to feel that I am trying at the very least. I am trying to be the person I want and need to be after all these years.

Below is the post that sat dormant for almost two month, but now I am going to release it because it really does express what has led me to this point.  It expresses what I want to do, hope to do and need to do with the new section.

And my life, that is.

But I am also releasing it as challenge to all of you. A challenge to post one of YOUR unpublished entries.  You know what I mean. One of those entries you wrote but never let go of, never hit that PUBLISH button.

Because I know you have them! I just know I am not alone…

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(the following post was originally written on September 19, 2009 and was titled “The Forgotten Niche”):

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The Forgotten Niche:

I bought my first philosophy book when I was 13.  I bought it for a quarter at this local thrit shop.  It was a college text book from 1968. I remember reading it off and on that year, finding myself completely enthralled. A new world opened up for me with that book.

Then later, years later in college, one of my philosophy professors stopped me in the halls.  He told me he was teaching a Philosophy of Religion course that semester and noticed I hadn’t signed up for it.  He wanted to know why.  I told him I couldn’t take his course because I had already taken that course at the community college before I transferred to UNM.  So we went to his office, went over the curriculum of his course and compared it to the curriculum of my past course, then made some changes.  He changed two of the books, added another book to the list and then petitioned the dean to let me take his course as a 300 level class.  I got to take the class again for full credit!  Later, I asked him why he did that.  “Because you belonged in that class,” he told me.

The next year I took my first Logic class. I fell in love. Logic and me went hand in hand.  The professor was a visting professor from the University of Chicago and everyone revered him, including me. That summer I ran into his assistant in our local cafe.  That’s when I learned that our professor went nuts when he found out I got a 100 on his final.  He told this assistant that “no one, no one gets a 100 on his finals”.  He insisted on looking over my final himself to find a flaw. In the end, he couldn’t find anything wrong with it even though he threw in a theorem that most of his grad students didn’t understand.  I got a perfect score. 

Finally, at my graduation, one of the professors stood up and announced that I was the only student in his class that received an “A”.  In fact, I was the only student who got an “A” in that class for the past three years he taught it, even at a graduate level.  He even said he looked forward to seeing what else I would do in the years to come.

So why am I telling you all this?  To impress you about my past accomplishments at some mediocre university at best?

Hardly.

I’m telling you in hopes that you might understand what it’s like. How it’s a beautiful thing when you finally find your niche in life, especially if you are like me and spent the first half of your life as a lost misfit.  When you finally realize and know what your are really good at, what you were made to do and what stirs your soul and propels you to want to make a difference, understand, improve and grow.

Maybe you might understand what it is like during these times, when fall arrives and that feeling of going back to school creeps into your skin, even twenty years after the fact. Or hell, maybe you even find yourself in the same place sometimes. Sitting alone, late at night during these first autumn nights wondering, “What the fuck am I doing with my life?”

"R" Is For Risk

The first week after I had Piper was completely consumed with how to care for her.  It was basically a whirlwind of task after task after task I had to master.  How to breast feed her, change her diaper, dress her appropriately, bathe her, lay her down so she didn’t die of SIDS, not to mention clipping those ridiculously teeny tiny nails.

Every moment was wrought with OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod, how do I care for this child!?

Finally, I was able to relax and have some confidence in my skills as a first time mother.  And when I say I was able to relax, what I really mean is that for all of three seconds, I had a moment of peace. Because it only took three seconds of peace before the flood gates opened and let loose the real anxiety:

Oh. My. God. I. Have. A. Child.

It was one of the most profound moments of my life.  And for every element of anxiety and panic that suddenly overwhelmed me, there was an equal if not greater element of elation and joy.  As I laid there with this new baby in arms, I asked myself what it truly meant that this child was mine. My daughter.  My daughter, as opposed to her daughter or her daughter or that woman’s daughter. What can I give her that will make it worthwhile to be my daughter?

That was over four year ago and lately that scene has been going through my head ever since I went to that eWomansNetwork event and heard that motivational speaker. Because four years ago, I made a promise to my daughter, a promised that I would do everything I could to pass on my love of philosophy to her and that would be the “something extra” (besides my endless mommy love) which I could give her. Something she would get from being my daughter and not her daughter or her daughter or that other woman’s daughter.

Four years ago.

So yeah, if they were handing out report cards right about now? Um, I’d be getting a big fat “F” for Failure to fulfill.  And it’s not because I haven’t done anything either.  I have done a lot, especially over the past two years, but I’ve been too chicken shit to do anything about all the stuff I’ve done.

I keep playing that scene in my head and keep hearing what Ms. Brody said in her speech about needing to take risks in order to grow. So, I am going to take a huge risk.  I am going to grow.  This blog is going to grow.  I am going to fulfill my promise to my daughter and put myself out there, on the line.

I’m adding another section to Momish that will be about philosophy for kids and it will include some of the stories I have written for Piper over the past two years.  Stories that I never sent to any publisher, never read to her, never showed others, all because I was too scared of rejection and criticism.  But I am motivated now and ready to take a risk.  This is why I haven’t been around lately because I have been working on the new section and it’s been keeping me real busy.

Stay tuned.

I’m excited about it. And nervous. But excited more than nervous.

I think.

{and now it will be too late to chicken out, because I am about to hit publish…eeeeekkkkkkkk}